A Sixville Bedtime

Will sensed a presence in his room but figured that it was just the nurse checking on him. He didn't even open his eyes; he'd been finding it hard enough to sleep in this strange bed as it was, despite having spent three weeks in it. He was due for discharge in a week and they had lowered his morphine to levels that failed to dull the steady ache in his ribs and chronic itch of his stitches in his shoulders.

"Hello Will. How are you feeling?"

The voice caught Will's attention and he groaned, turning over.

"Hope, what are you doing here? Visiting hours were over ages ago." He asked his mother-in-law.

"I've snuck in to see how you were. Liz told me that you were having trouble sleeping and I thought I might be able to help." Hope answered.

Will was taken aback. His wife's mother had made it quite clear, in their four previous meetings that she disliked him. Her attitude towards him had always been decidedly cold.

His wife, Liz had explained that Hope Baxter was a stern Presbyterian and, as such, could not approve of Will's Catholic upbringing and own lapsed personal beliefs.

"I'm being well cared for. A little insomnia never hurt anybody. I don't see how you can assist me..."

"I'm here to read you a bedtime story." Hope explained.

Will snorted derisively.

"Hope, I'm 24. A grown man has no need to be read to at bedtime or any other!"

"You'll like this one, Will, I promise. What harm can it do?"

Will groaned and rubbed his eyes. Hadn't he suffered enough already, without his mother-in-law acting like this?

"Okay. Go ahead."

Hope stood from her chair and leant over Will, fluffing his pillow. Will had to avert his eyes as he realised that, at this angle, he could see straight down her cleavage and see Hope's panties as her loose dress hung forward.

"Comfortable?" She asked, retaking her seat. "Okay, I'll begin."

++++++++++++++++++++

Applepip loved to sail. She'd take the little sailboat that she owned and race it out into the lagoon, shooting beyond the fisher boats that belonged to her father.

All the men would watch her go by; the spray of the water would cause her white dresses to cling to her body and it was the opinion of all the men that Applepip was the most beautiful maiden on the East Calian coast and perhaps in the whole country.

Applepip was oblivious of the men. She loved the waves, the sky and the freedom. She had no thoughts to her modesty because her heart was pure and she considered everyone to be as she was.

The only thing she liked doing more than sailing was teasing Barnaby, the boy who helped to gut the fish. This was Applepip's only vice.

She would tell Barnaby that he smelled. It was true, but unkind nonetheless.

She would criticise his work and pull faces behind his back as he walked away.

Barnaby would not reply to Applepip's taunts and this made her more determined to continue her harassment.

Two years went by and life in the village remained much the same as it had for centuries. The only difference this particular spring was that Applepip had developed into an even fairer young lady and Barnaby had the start of a small moustache.

Applepip noticed that Barnaby set all her school friends into fits of giggles. They would flutter their eyelashes at him and prance about gaily in an effort to draw his eye.

Though he ignored all the other girls, he was also still ignoring her. This annoyed Applepip immensely. So imagine her delight when Barnaby found at job on a boat for the first time and embarrassed himself by being seasick profusely.

There is no bigger crime in such a seaside community; Applepip wasted no time in telling every one she knew, and even those she didn't.

Barnaby gave up his dreams of being a fisherman without too much sorrow. He was mature for his 17 years and found much in his life that he could be thankful for.

Another season passed and the weather grew colder.

Applepip would sit at her window and watch, as Barnaby trudged down the street, carrying bread or wheeling casks without complaint.

She would curse him, silently, for his contentment. He was poor, stupid and had no sea legs, what on Earth did he have to smile about?

An idea came to Applepip one day, out of the blue. It warmed her from the inside and she felt like bursting as she went about her secret preparations.

The day arrived for her to enact her plan.

She snuck out of her comfy home at dusk, when most of the villagers retreated inside or visited the tavern for ale. The wind was up and it had started to rain.

She climbed into her little boat and set off, stopping not far from the shoreline.

After a little wait she spied Barnaby returning home from his work, no one else was visible.

Applepip tore away the little sail and tossed it into the bay. She smashed a little hole in the hull of her boat and observed as water began to fill it.

"Barnaby! Barnaby! You must help me! My boat is sinking and I'll surely drown if you don't!" She screamed as she waved her arms in the air.

She smiled as she saw him notice her plight and freeze by the dock. He'd have to go get help, rather than venture out himself and everyone would think him a coward. All of her friends would stop fussing about him then!

Applepip stopped smiling as a wave rocked the boat and upended her into the water.

She clung to her overturned boat and gasped for air, the salty water burning her eyes.

Applepip struggled to right the craft. It was too heavy for her and her efforts had only served to tire her. She found it harder and harder to hold on.

The current in the bay had caught our pretty but mischievous heroine and had started to pull her away from land.

Applepip was afraid for the first time in her charmed life. She had never viewed the water as any sort of peril and she regretted it now.

Everyone would mourn for her, but time would pass and she would become just another tragic tale to tell to the small children.

Applepip actually felt a little warming pathos at this point. She was still young enough to be consoled by melodrama.

So caught up in her thoughts, Applepip did not notice the dark shape looming up through the choppy waters, nor the big strong hands that pulled her from them.

Barnaby wrapped thick blankets round her and held her until her teeth stopped chattering.

"But you can't sail..." Applepip sobbed. "How did you...I mean...why? I'm so mean to you!"

"You only do that because you love me. Didn't you know that?" Barnaby spoke solemnly.

Applepip opened her mouth, shocked.

The people in this community were simple folk and this meant things were sometimes very complicated indeed. Emotions or matters of the heart were never openly discussed.

"Is that what I've been feeling? It's awful, is what it is. I don't think I can bear it. Throw me back in and let me perish!" Applepip cried.

"I can't do that. I love you too."

Applepip hit him weakly on the chest several times then fell into his arms.

She nestled in his embrace as he steered the boat to safety.

The next few weeks, after Applepip's cold had gone, were blissful ones. Winter came and went and through it all our two young lovers were inseparable.

The bonds of love were so tight between them that when they made love no words were needed. Their bodies knew exactly what to do.

When they came together it seemed that the stars shone brighter, flowers bloomed more fragrant or the birds would sing a little sweeter.

They were right.

There is nothing nature loves more than two soul mates in each other's arms.

If it this were a fair and righteous world they would have lived the happy lives that soul mates deserve. Sadly that was not to be.

Applepip's father was a wealthy man with some standing here. He considered Barnaby to be beneath Applepip; despite his heroics, it was quite clear that he would never be able to take over and run the fleet.

Applepip's father made all this quite clear to Barnaby one day.

When Barnaby told Applepip she flushed scarlet and threatened to stop eating until her father relented and accepted that they were destined to be together.

Barnaby kissed her with his rough mouth and tickled her with his hairy lip.

"Pip. Stop crying. Your father is right. I must go and make a man of myself. I'll head inland to the cities and when I return, I'll be able to be the husband I should be."

"No Barnaby! You'll leave and see the world. You'll forget all about me because there'll be prettier girls and more exciting things to do than return and live this non-existence!" Applepip protested.

"Do you have such little faith in me? You are the woman I am meant to be with and I shall pay other women no mind. No sights or adventures could possibly make my heart beat faster than when I catch a glimpse of you!"

How could Applepip not believe him? Every moment that he remained away from her would be torture but her faith in him was steadfast.

"I shall write to you of every detail of my progress and send it on the monthly coach, Applepip. Promise me that you will wait for it eagerly; it's the only way I will be able to bear the distance between us."

"Only Barnaby, of course I will. Every sound that reaches my ears will go unnoticed unless the coach's wheels cause them."

+++++++++++++++++++

"God, Hope, I pray that this story isn't this soppy all the way through!" Will complained.

"Shush! It gets better, believe me." Hope reassured him.

Will saw her uncross her legs and flash her red panties at him. It was an innocent gesture but he still flushed red and bade her to continue to cover his confusion.

"Now, where was I?" Hope asked herself.

++++++++++++++++++

Applepip stood on the edge of the village, expecting the infrequent but regular coastal coach to appear on the muddy and uneven road. It was a day late.

The lights of home were distant behind her and the dark trees of the forest loomed up around her but she was unafraid. She was desperate for the mail that the horse drawn coach carried.

Suddenly two horsemen rounded the bend, followed by the battered coach and then two riders at the rear.

Though the riders were armed Applepip flagged them down.

"What kept you? There are people in these isolated villages that rely on this service, you know!" Applepip chided the nearest man.

"It's the gypsy bands from the north, miss...they've been moving south-eastwards for some time now...getting bolder. Why, Bloodquaffer Bill, the brigands' king, attacked the last coach setting off from here. That's why we're here. The palace sent us as escorts to ensure the safety of the mail."

"I don't understand. The man I love was on that coach as a passenger. Do you know what happened to him?" Applepip cried aghast. She felt faint and she fell to her knees.

The haggard knight dismounted from his mud-splattered mare and squatted next to her.

"I'm sorry, miss. Your young man is dead. Highwaymen like Bloodquaffer...they kill them all..." He told her, not unsympathetically.

++++++++++++

"You know, this story is a lot like the Princess Bride, the film..." Will observed aloud.

"Is it?" Hope asked innocuously. "I think the author must have liked that fantastic film, or maybe even the book by William Goldman, which was great, too. It must have inspired him."

"Well, that'll kind of spoil the ending..." Will huffed.

"Oh, I don't think so. The plot gets more deviant from here...oh I mean, that the plot is sure to deviate from the original later on..." Hope corrected herself.

Will blinked at Hope's Freudian slip. Was she aware that she had made one?

"I thought that you flew down to Sixville to help Liz out, not to visit me." He queried, hoping to get her to leave.

"Liz has been a nightmare to stay with. She's been grouchy, miserable and snapping at me for the slightest thing. On my first day down she walked out for an hour!"

"Funny, I've never had an unhappy day with Liz in all the time we've been married."

"That's the problem, exactly."

Will didn't understand. He was hoping that senility was not hereditary, at the same time he prayed Liz had gotten the genes that meant she aged as well as her mother.

"Shall I go on?" Hope questioned.

Will shut his eyes but waved his hand to consent.

+++++++++++++++++++

Five years passed and Applepip's loveliness had grown even more radiant.

The spinsters of her village felt the grief at her loss only helped to enhance her charm; the sorrow in her eyes hid the fact that not much was going on in the brain behind them.

In fact her father was secretly hoping that the Duchess of this land would accept her to be her bride. Notification had been sent the length and breadth of the land detailing the Duchess Carlotta's desire to be wed and the fact that her consort would be picked from a great feast to be held at the palace in a month's time.

+++++++++++++++++

"Wait, wait, wait! The Duchess is going to marry a woman?" Will puzzled.

"I know, surprising isn't it? But sometimes, Will, even fictional feudal kingdoms can be more advanced and sensible than our own beloved country..." Hope explained.

"So Applepip is a lesbian now?" Will asked, letting the rest go unremarked.

"No, don't be silly. Since her devastation at the loss of Barnaby, her heart has been incapable of feeling anything, for anyone, man, woman or beast. At least with a woman she would not suffer...certain 'things'... that would highlight what she had lost. The fact that is was nobility meant a great deal to her father and pleasing him would be a small consolation."

"It's completely obvious that this Carlotta is going to pick Applepip." Will voiced.

Hope sighed deeply and flicked forward a few pages.

"Okay then... here we go..."

+++++++++++++++++

The Duchess Carlotta stood with Applepip and caressed her cheek.

"The people have decided to throw an impromptu celebration at the announcement of our nuptials. They've fallen in love with you just as much as I have."

"Your Grace, picking me to be your wife is a great honour, but I should warn you that I have been in love once and will never love another." Applepip said quietly.

Carlotta looked perplexed; some men and women had taken one look at her and offered up their undying adoration. The Duchess' looks were unsurpassed in all the annuls of history. Not one flaw could be found anywhere on her person.

It was safe to say that this had shaped Carlotta to be arrogant and smug to a huge degree, however she never let the polite and friendly mask slip for long....

"Dearest one, events have been moving so fast for you...our marriage is in one month's time...all I ask of you is that you spend some time with me and think kindly of me..." Carlotta instructed.

"Of course, Your Grace." Applepip smiled, obligingly.

"Oh look, my love, the royal painter is here for your portrait..." Her fiancé said, leaving her side and beginning to issue commands to the staff.

She had Applepip stand facing out of a huge window, where the sunlight could set her fair hair aglow.

The painter set to work, uncomfortable with the Duchess' presence behind his shoulder.

"Your Grace...," He whispered nervously. "Your bride is crying...it hardly seems appropriate..."

"Isn't it?" Carlotta enquired, seeming genuinely surprised. "How should she look?"

"Well... women about to be wed usually look happy...."

"Applepip, you must smile...apparently." The Duchess called over boisterously, as if all this went over her head.

Applepip smiled hollowly and Carlotta clapped briefly.

A few seconds later and the Duchess walked away bored, Applepip forgotten.

The Duchess stalked the corridors in search of Baron Rouine, her closest ally and confidante.

Eventually she found him in a secluded courtyard, haranguing a stable boy over some trifling matter and threatening him with a thrashing.

At the sight of his mistress he dismissed the boy with a stout wallop to the head.

"Carlotta, may I congratulate you on your choice of bride? Her beauty comes only second to yours..." He cooed, in a simpering tone.

"Thank you, Baron. I have not, however, come here to talk about that...."

Anyone looking into that cobbled space would have seen the two nobles bow their heads together and start to whisper conspiratorially.

++++++++++++++

The palace had become a hive of activity and Applepip's head was spinning with the names of all the courtiers she had been introduced to.

The preparations for the ceremony promised to drive her mad. Used, as she was, to the simple life the fuss seemed overblown and unnecessary.

This is why she was sneaking out of the castle walls at dawn, one particular morning.

Her destination was the small and neglected boathouse on the banks of the nearby river.

The river was not the open expanse of the sea but would be a suitable substitute; she needed water beneath her and the air in her face.

She tied her horse to a tree and entered the ramshackle boathouse.

The only lights to see by were the rays breaking through the holes in the timber frame.

Applepip pulled the oilskin from the small dinghy, bundled it up neatly and went to push open the river doors.

This accomplished, she turned to board the little craft....

Out of nowhere three silhouettes appeared from the gloom and she was thrown in forcefully.

The shapes joined her in the vessel and Applepip passed out from shock.

+++++++++++

When Applepip regained her senses she could hear the waves and the frothing of the ocean and knew that she was no longer near the gentle river that winded through the lands of her new home.

The little dinghy had been switched for a more seaworthy craft.

She opened her eyes and took in her captors.

The nearest one was an exotic foreigner, the likes of which Applepip had only seen in drawings. She was covered in sheer lilac fabrics that hide most of her body yet, to Applepip, the outfit seemed indecent at the same time.

"Oh, you are awake, m'lady. My name is Sadia. Pleased to meet you." The veiled lady introduced herself and bowing.

Applepip was about to reply, when a voice cried out from the stern,

"Turkish whore, what have I told you? There is to be no talking to the prisoner!"

Applepip turned at the direction of the voice.

A short woman with thick glasses hobbled over the deck.

"Sadia, go and help Fenea with the sails."

"Yes Maud." Sadia replied, her eyes, the only visible part of her, chastened.

The crippled dwarf turned to Applepip and squatted down.

"My name is Maud. You've met Sadia and that's Fenea," Maud said, pointing at a person, whom Applepip, at first thought, had mistaken for a giant figurehead.

The third kidnapper must have been at least eight foot tall and her arms rippled with muscle.

"There's not a feminine thing about Fenea, my dear. If you cause us problems she'll be the one who is snapping you in two."

Fenea felt their eyes on her back and turned and waved.

"Did you have a nice nap, nice lady?" Fenea called in a booming but jovial manner.

"No talking to the prisoner!" Maud reiterated.

"You won't get away with this. When the Duchess finds out I'm missing she'll send the Baron after you. It's said that nothing ever remains hidden from him, that he can find the even the smallest item, thought irretrievably lost." Applepip yelled.

"By the time the palace discovers anything amiss the only thing he'll find is your cold corpse..." Maud hissed.

Applepip huffed and folded her arms. She didn't want them to see how frightened she was and how close to tears.

Time passed and then the ship ran aground on a white sandy shore, except Applepip could see nothing but sand all the way to the horizon.

"Welcome to the Unnamed Desert, princess." Maud spoke in her ear, waving her hand over the vast expanse.